


Down in the Archives

by Jay_Bird23



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: It gets spooky later, but the first chapters are building character relations, but there is insta-family, canon typical violence in the later chapters, insta-adoption if you will, it gets there, original gender-fluid character - Freeform, slow start, spookyness builds, we don't do instalove here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24865243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_Bird23/pseuds/Jay_Bird23
Summary: Takes place when Jon gets back in the middle of season 3.A new assistant arrives at the Archives. This is their story.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> I'm tired of trying to come up with summaries. If you clicked this, thank you. I hope you enjoy.

The new assistant is just what Jonathan would expect. Young. Barely in their senior year of college. But, like all college students who try to get jobs at the Institute, they have an excited glimmer in their eyes and a tilt of the head that suggests an illusion of maturity that promises to make up for their youth. Jon can’t help his doubts. However, despite their bright pink dyed hair and the pink septum ring that shines under their nose, they did manage to get the job, suggesting an intelligence and possible maturity Jonathan guesses holds some merit.

Now that he looks at them, Jon isn’t sure the kid in front of him looks like a they. Yes they're a bit younger and softer than a majority of the men he’s come across, but they also hold themself like a man would, legs spread as they sit, slouched. Jonathan isn’t sure how to broach the subject of preferred pronouns, but he decides to get introductions done first and have the conversations about pronouns later. 

“You’re Jasper Terrace, correct?”

The pink hair student jumps to their feet and flashes a smile that’s nervousness does nothing to overshadow their excitement. “Mr. Sims, I presume,” they say as the two shake hands. Jonathan frowns at the name, but Jasper doesn’t seem to notice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for the opportunity.” 

Jonathan wants to make a comment about how he wasn’t exactly in charge of hiring, but he keeps it to himself as he motions for Jasper to follow him deeper into the Institute. “It was becoming clear that I needed an assistant and you had the qualifications,” he said simply. “And none of this Mr. Sims nonsense. Call me Jonathan or Jon.” 

Jasper looks hesitant and their smile falters. “That’s going to take a bit, Mr. Sims,” they say, their tone hinting at an apology and they cringe when Jon turns to glare at them over his shoulder. “I’m not used to calling. . .adults out of name.” 

“You’re an adult as well, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes. . .But you’re an official adult. Someone out of their twenties, you know? No offense.” 

Jonathan mumbles something about none being taken despite the fact he feels very much slighted. Nevertheless, he leads the new assistant to his office in the Archives and points to a cluttered desk in the back, far away from his own. “You’ll be there,” he says flatly. “Your job, in addition to doing any additional research needed to close out any given file -- be it contacting police, hospitals, morgues, or the statement giver themselves for any information they may have forgotten in their first statement -- will be to transcribe the handwritten written statements in the Archives to digital. You will be given a one hour lunch break at noon and one ten minute smoking break every hour.” 

Jasper shakes their head, causing their pink hair to bounce slightly as they make their way to their appointed desk. “I don’t smoke.” 

“Good. However, you are still allowed a break should you choose to take one.” Jonathan takes his own seat and watches as Jasper circles the desk to do the same. He watches as they remove their bag from their back and pull their laptop from inside, setting it on the desk before casting the bag aside carelessly and setting the computer on the desk. Once they’re settled and have gathered one of the stacks of files to look over, Jonathan decides they have a decent handle on their tasks and nods to himself before moving to his own tasks. 

The two work in silence for a few hours, the only break in the silence coming from Jasper asking if they’re allowed to listen to music while they transcribe. Jonathan agreed so long as they have earbuds or headphones, then they returned to their comfortable working silence. 

Some time passes before a look of alarm flashes across Jasper’s face. Jonathan glances up and sees their face cast in a harsher blue light coming from their screen, eyes wide as they look up and meet Jon’s questioning gaze. 

“Uh,” they say, then chuckle nervously and tilt their head in a half shrug. “My computer just blue screened.” 

“Blue screened?” 

“Yeah.” Jasper makes a show of lifting their laptop and showing Jon the screen. As promised, it’s blue with an error message emblazoned in harsh white text. “I was transcribing a statement and--” 

“That happens sometimes,” Jonathan says, extending a hand over his own laptop in their direction. “I’ll take it from here.” Jasper makes no move to hand over the file, so Jon wiggles his fingers impatiently. “Some of the statements refuse to transcribe,” he explains at their silence. “We don’t know why, nor do we let it bother us too much. If it won’t transcribe on your laptop, it won’t transcribe anywhere. I’ll have to read the statement outloud into a tape recorder and that’ll be that. Just--”

Jasper raises an eyebrow and tilts their head further in confusion. “I’m sorry, a tape recorder?” 

Jon fights a sigh. “Yes, a tape recorder. It’s old fashion, I know. But it’s the only way it’ll ever get transcribed. Well, digitalized in a way, I suppose.” 

Once again, Jasper’s hair bounces as they shake their head and rise from their seat. “You don’t judge me for being trans, I don’t judge you for using a tape recorder,” they say simply as they cross the floor and pass over the file. “Thanks for that, by the way. It’s been hard to find a job.” 

That’s probably an opening if Jon’s ever going to get one. 

“Speaking of you being transgender. . .” he starts as he sets the file in the growing pile of at the edge of his desk.

Jasper tenses at the statement and a flash of fear shines in their eyes.

Jon tenses himself, though his is from surprise rather than Jasper’s hesitance. “No, no, no. That isn’t a problem.” 

The hesitance leaves Jasper’s eyes and they exhale loudly, nearly gasping with relief as their shoulders slump slightly. Jon almost feels they’re going to fall over and rises to his feet to stabilize them only to be waved off when Jasper straightens. 

“Sorry,” they say, their mouth curling in a relieved smile as they brush a bubblegum lock from their face. “You probably wouldn’t believe how many jobs I’ve lost being trans.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jon says. “Gender doesn’t mean much here so long as your job is done well. What I want to know is what pronouns I use when referring to you.” 

“Oh, is that all?” They reach around their neck and pull a thin, silver chain up from the front of their shirt. Attached to the chain are three thin rectangles layered one on top of the other, the topmost one reading ‘he/him/his’ in black, engraved letters. “I’m sure you know what a pronoun necklace is by now?”

“Honestly, not particularly. Gender isn’t my strong suit, I’m afraid.” 

“It’s not a lot of people’s, but that’s not a Q and A session I feel like having right now. Anywho, a pronoun necklace will tell you what pronouns I use at any given time. If you ever have questions, just read.” 

Jon examines the jewelry for a second before nodding and finally lowering himself back to his seat. “That is handy. I’ll keep it in mind.” 

Jasper nods as well before releasing the necklace to hang at thei- his neck. “Thank you, Mr. Sims.” He turns before Jonathan has a chance to scold him and scampers back to his desk, earbuds already returning to their place in his ears.

Jon watches Jasper return to his desk and reboot his computer. According to the white light that replaces the blue, Jon guesses it works without hitch and nods once more in satisfaction before shuffling through the recording pile at random and grabbing his tape recorder. After a preliminary glance of the statement number and reason for the statement, he glances up at Jasper to confirm he’s working before hitting record. 

“Statement of Tyler Young, regarding a road trip taken in America after his senior year of college in 1999. Original statement given 14th June, 2003. Recording done by Jonathan Sims, the Archivist. Statement begins. . .” 


	2. Q and A

The rest of the week goes by easily. Jasper showed up on time on the days he was scheduled and worked on his schoolwork during what were designated as smoke breaks. He rarely complained out loud when he was shouted at by less than civil interviewees when he called for a follow-up and easily got situated in the tasks required by the Archives. 

However, Jasper is also quiet. That in itself isn’t a problem when they’re working, especially when Jon needs to record an audio transcription. If he has a question, Jasper will quietly hold up his hand and wait for Jon to pause his recording and acknowledge him before asking. Once answered, they’d go back to work until someone else needs something. During breaks, Jasper simply marks his place in whatever file he was working on, lets Jon know he’s leaving, then goes out to eat or do homework. 

Before everything with Prentiss, Jon would enjoy having Jasper as an assistant. He’s not in the way, not intrusive, and is very efficient in getting the information needed to close out a file. However, Prentiss’ attack and everything that happened immediately after, coupled with the ever growing mystery of who killed Gertrude Robinson, leaves Jonathan unsettled about his quiet new assistant. While he’s careful not to show it outright, the mystery of Jasper makes him nervous. Especially since Elias hired him without consulting Jon first. 

So the next week during Jasper’s lunch break, Jonathan holds a hand up and quickly ends his newest recording. “One moment, Jasper.” 

Jasper raises an eyebrow and tilts hi- her (now that Jon looks at the necklace around her neck, a habit that took a few gentle reminders to remember) head slightly in confusion. “Yes, Mr. Sims?” 

Jonathan does his best to ignore the name. He’s unused to being addressed so formally by the people he works with, but Jasper doesn’t seem able to break the habit yet. There are efforts, yes, but formal address seems to be Jasper’s default in dealing with ‘actual adults.’ 

“Would you like to get lunch with me?” Jon asks. 

There was no other way to ask and no real way to lead up to the question. Jon didn’t even see a way to word the question that didn’t lead to the strange look he predicted Jasper would give him when he asked. And as he predicted, Jasper’s eyebrows pull together in confusion and she sends a quick glance to the door. 

“I’m not interested in a raise.” 

The simplicity of her statement makes Jon start and he shakes his head rapidly. “No! No, no. It’s not like that!” 

Jasper narrows her eyes skeptically. 

“Look, I just want to get to know you-- Asyourboss! Simply. . .” He sighs and Jasper raises an eyebrow. “Look. A lot has happened before you were hired. A lot that makes me. . .Cautious about who I keep in frequent contact with.” He pauses for a moment and pinches the bridge of his nose to gather himself before attempting an explanation again. “I just need to know you’re--”

“There’s a coffee shop I’ve found that’s pretty reasonably priced for the area,” Jasper interrupts, twirling her keys around her fingers almost impatiently. “It’s a couple minutes walk, so we should probably get moving if we want time to talk ‘in depth’ while we eat, or whatever.” 

Jon stammers out an affirmative and scrambles for his own belongings before following Jasper out the door. He calls a quick notice to Martin, letting him know where they were going, and they make their way out to the street. Jasper doesn’t make small talk as they walk besides the typical instructions of where they’re going and a brief explanation of how she found the place. Apparently she was wandering one day trying to find something to eat on a college friendly budget. Archival assistants, while cool in title, don't really get paid as much as one would anticipate. 

Jon thinks she was making a joke since she smiled, more to herself than anything, but it was a smile. 

They eventually found themselves in the cozy coffee shop as Jasper had promised. It’s a warm space in the basement of a used bookstore, but the wide windows and soft, bright colored furniture offsets any sense of being trapped that usually comes from being in a basement. Jon admits it's a nice place, and Jasper makes quick work of ordering her favorite for both of them before she settles into a comfortable, if hideously orange armchair near a window and motioning for Jon to take a seat across from her. 

Once Jon’s settled in, she repositions herself so that she’s sitting on one leg as the other folds up and tucks itself beside her. “Sorry for the improper sitting,” she starts. “I’m not one to actually sit straight whenever I get a chance. Well, not out of a professional setting, anyway. I don’t think it’d be proper to sit like this at a desk.” 

Jon shakes his head. “I don’t really care how you sit so long as you can get your work done.” 

Jasper nods and smiles faintly. “Good to know. Now. You had questions?” 

“Yes. Uh.” He pauses again and rifles through his bag and pulls out a tape recorder. “Do you mind if I record this?” 

Another skeptical look forms on Jasper’s face, but she motions for him to do as he pleases and Jon hits record. 

“Do I need to say something here?” Jasper asks, her fingers working the silver rectangles of her necklace nervously. “You seem to say something before every recording, you know. What is it? Statement of so and so?” 

“You listen to me record?” Jon says. “I thought you listened to music all day while you worked.” 

Jasper shrugs. “The stories are interesting. Plus you read them as if you’re. . .I don’t know. . . Part of the story yourself. It’s enchanting in a way. Spooky sometimes. But enchanting nonetheless.” 

Jon suppresses a shudder. It’s bad enough Jasper wound up working at the Institute, he didn’t know how immediate the effects would settle in. 

“Anyway, if it bothers you, I’ll stop.” 

“No, no. It’s fine,” Jon assures quickly. “But we’re not talking work. We’re talking about you.” 

“Can I speak familiarly since we’re not at work?” 

“You can speak familiarly whenever you want.” 

“I’m working on it. Anyway, that statement you just made? That was creepy.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine. I’m just not used to working with. . .Older men? Actual adults, I mean. Whatever, I’m not sure--”

“I’ll be more mindful of how I talk to you. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, now or in the past.” 

Jasper shakes her head as a server arrives and sets their orders in front of them. Two breakfast sandwiches and two cappuccinos. “This is the first weird thing you’ve said outside of the typical buuuuuuuuuuuu-- STUFF. . . The typical stuff I eavesdrop you reading on a daily basis.” 

Jon hums and lifts his mug to his lips. “I believe you were right in your first comment about it being bullshit,” he says loud enough to be heard across the table.

Jasper nearly drops her coffee, though Jon can’t tell if it’s from the shock of hearing him swear, or her poorly hidden laughter. She clears her throat to compose herself and she too takes a sip of her drink. After two sips and a bite of sandwich, she claps her hands together finally. “Right. Questions?” 

As much as he dislikes the idea of using his Compulsion on Jasper, Jon doesn’t really feel he has a choice in the matter. So he does.

“Why are you working at the Magnus Institute?” 

An odd look crosses Jasper’s face and Jon knows the Compulsion has taken hold. “It sounded cool.” 

“That’s it?” 

“And it counts as an internship credit. Plus I’m a creative writing major, so I was almost hoping that some of the weird stuff I came across working in the Archives of a really old school would give me some sort of inspiration. Of course I wouldn’t do the typical writer bullshit of ‘changing some names’ or ‘dramatizing events’ then push everything out as my own. No, I just wanted a few key pieces to weave together something interesting. So why not work as an Archival Assistant and hope for the best? Plus. . .the hiring process wasn’t really difficult. The guy in charge barely asked for any references. Just asked how many words I could type per minute and how. . . fit I am. That was weird and I almost left right there. But I figured there would be some degree of walking needed to cross reference materials in storage or something like that and ignored the weirdness. Plus I really needed a job, you know. College student.” 

“I see.” Jonathan takes a bite out of his sandwich as a thoughtful look crosses Jasper’s face. After a moment, she fiddles with the tags on her necklace and flips it until ‘he/him/his’ sits on top. 

It’s not an unusual happening. After a brief bit of research on pronoun necklaces and being transgender, Jon has come to the conclusion that Jasper is more than likely gender-fluid. According to the first hand accounts he’s read, some gender-fluid people go days as one gender (or non-gender) before switching while others may not feel bound to a gender (or non-gender) for more than an hour. From what Jon has seen, Jasper seems to be a mixture of both. Last week he’s seen him wear the they/them/theirs necklace for a couple days before switching to she/her/hers halfway through a work day. 

Of course, their gender never seems to affect how he dresses. In fact, some days his clothes directly contradict the pronouns on the necklace. It never affects how Jon or the others see Jasper or address him, of course. If he’s dressed in a dress shirt and slacks with the she/her/hers tag on display, they would adjust as such. If he were in a bright pink sundress and heels with he/him/his pronouns, they would adjust. All that matters is the necklace on display, and Jon is proud of his staff for making the adjustment. 

But he digresses. 

“Besides that, why the Magnus Institute in the first place?” he asks as Jasper takes another sip of his coffee. 

“Well, it is a relatively well known Institute. Especially in the paranormal community.” Another thoughtful look crosses Jasper’s expression and he shrugs. “Well, not really. Whatever’s going on in the Institute is pretty well covered up actually. However, I’ve heard in my own ‘investigation,’ if you can call it that, that puts you lot as a haven for people to talk about the weird experiences in their lives. If we’re being honest, I thought it was fake. Yes the Institute is old, but I wasn’t sure if half the stuff people talked about was actual stuff or just. . .” 

“Bullshit?” Jonathan finishes. 

Jasper smiles and nods. “Yeah. I’m a believer in the supernatural and paranormal, mind you. I find it kind of silly that people can look at the vastness of the universe and how much we really don’t know about what’s around us and believe we’re the only things living in it.” He chuckles lightly. “That’s a whole other conversation that will definitely lead me to an existential crisis I do not want to have right now.” 

Jon hums and lifts his sandwich. “I know what you mean.” 

“Anyway, with all the buzz around the Institute and the mystery surrounding it, I almost literally jumped at the opportunity to work here. Not only am I a believer, as I said, I need inspiration for my writing since it’s my major. Plus, as I’ve said, it seemed cool.” 

“And you want to boost your reputation online with the paranormal community, I assume,” he says slowly. “Are you planning on selling the Institute’s secrets to make yourself look better?” 

An offended frown pulls down Jasper’s lips and his brow pulls together. “Of course not,” he says. “Despite popular belief, I’m not an idiot.” 

“I didn’t think you were.” 

“Obviously you do otherwise you wouldn’t have asked. Come on, Mr. Sims. We’ve worked together for almost two weeks now and you just thought to ask me that? If I wanted to spill everything all over the internet, I could have done so a long time ago.” 

He sits back in his chair and turns his attention out the window beside him, a tired glare in his eyes as he watches the world pass by. Jon didn’t mean to offend, but that seems to be what he’s good at nowadays. Paranoia and, quite possibly, PTSD means he’s always suspicious about new people, especially the ones Elias hires for Jonathan specifically without consulting him first. Obviously he doesn’t have any proof that Jasper is dangerous, but that’s never prevented people from being dangerous before. In his experience, those who seem unsuspecting and nonthreatening often turn out to be the most threatening. 

But he did reply honestly to Jon’s Compulsion, not that there’s a way to lie through it, so Jon doesn’t have a reason to not trust him. Plus Jasper seems genuinely hurt by the accusation, so he does feel a bit bad. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, earning a side eye look from Jasper as he goes on. “As I’ve said, a lot has happened before you were hired. It’s hard for me to trust people anymore, so I have to be careful.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Jasper asks. 

Jonathan starts slightly but nods anyway. 

“What happened here?” 

“I’m sorry?” 

Jasper uncurls himself from his chair and leans forward, steepling his fingers under his chin and studying Jon. “You keep mentioning stuff happening before I was hired and how it left you with trust issues and other issues. I tried asking Tim about what the Institute does, but all he did was shake his head and mumble something about feeling sorry that I’m so young. I think it was a threat, but when I talked to Martin about it later, he said it wasn’t but he wouldn’t go any farther than that. Same with Brasira and Melanie. No one’s telling me anything and it’s kind of scary, given the type of materials we work with.” He inhales slowly and takes a moment to breathe. 

“I need to know what I’m getting into,” he continues. “If not for my own sanity, but to also allot some time for classes before I end up getting swept up in it, right?” 

Jon wants to laugh since he knows the feeling. He came into this job thinking that he’d be able to live a normal life, albeit one full of skepticism and a closer eye on the shadows. He never knew the shit he’d be wading in at this point and how it would consume his entire life. Jasper didn’t-- doesn’t know what he could be getting into and that isn’t fair. 

A heavy sigh pushes from his core and he removes his glasses to run a hand down his face. After a moment, he replaces his glasses and meets Jasper’s eyes. “You’re right,” he says. “You’re right. There’s a lot you don’t know and you have the right to. However, you also have the right to know that knowing might not save you. In fact, not knowing often feels safer than knowing at some points. It’s easier to dismiss strange happenings when you don’t know all of the possibilities of beings that can be lurking around the corners or in the shadows. Sometimes I think that once you become vaguely aware of them, they become acutely aware of you. And even if you know what happened at the Institute and everything surrounding it, you can’t quit. It’s impossible. Even Tim who possibly hates the Institute more than I do can’t leave, and he’s tried the hardest out of all of us to get away.” 

There’s an uncertainty in Jasper’s eyes and Jon understands. However, there’s also the resolve Jon is also familiar with. He wants answers. Jon knows the feeling. But Jon also knows that most answers often lead to more questions, and all Jon seems to have are dead end questions with roundabout answers. 

Nevertheless, Jasper seems determined. “I need to know.” 

“I know,” Jon says, then casts a glance to the clock on the wall behind the counter. There’s only half an hour left on their lunch break, but Jon doubts they’ll get scolded for being late coming back. No one wants to be there anymore, though everyone knows they’re going to come back. Time and distance never matters. Once you sign a contract to work at the Institute, you sign your life away. 

He clicks off the tape recorder and tucks it away, the action solidifying the hesitance in Jasper’s eyes as Jon sits back and also steeples his fingers in front of his mouth. “You might want to settle in,” he says. “There’s a lot to unpack.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read this and left kudos! Please keep doing that! You rock! 
> 
> This is the last chapter I'm going to post this week, and I'm going to try to post a chapter a week/every two weeks from now on. However, expect delays since a) I'm a fully working adult, b) full time student and c) depressed af. So yeah! We're working on it.


	3. The New Normal

Jasper was silent through the recount of events leading up to his hiring, and he paled a few shades during some of the descriptions of how he got his various scars. But he remains silent and nods along when Jon thinks he’s zoning out. He almost stopped when Jasper abandoned his coffee and pressed his eyes closed at the description of Jane Prentiss and the subsequent worm attack. Jasper told him to go on, but he kept his eyes closed for the rest of the tale. 

Once Jon finishes, Jasper inhales and exhales slowly before smiling a humorless smile and shaking his head. “Yeah,” he says after a second. “Those are good reasons to have trust issues.” His eye cracks open and locks it on the tape recorder poking from Jon’s bag. “You aren’t going to lose that tape, are you? We need something in case I end up getting taken by. . . What was it called? The Stranger?” 

Jon’s gaze sharpens and he straightens quickly. “Don’t joke about that,” he snaps, wiping the smile from Jasper’s face. “Do NOT joke about that. I will NOT lose another colleague and I will do my best to keep anything too dangerous from getting to you. You may not have a choice in working at the Institute, but I promise you, as long as I have breath, I will keep you safe from whatever you may stumble across in your time here.” 

It takes a moment for them to speak again and it’s Jasper who breaks the silence with a mirthless, breathy laugh. “That was some speech,” he says, fiddling with his necklace again. “You rehearse that in a mirror or something?” Jon glares and Jasper lifts his hands in surrender. “A joke. I was joking. I’m sorry. Look, I joke when I’m scared, alright. We all do. I’m sorry.” 

Jon holds his glare for another moment before he sighs and forces himself to relax. He can’t get angry at Jasper for being scared or confused and making jokes about such. Jon himself does it on the regular. Well, when he’s not a shaking, paranoid mess. Besides, even though he denied it, he at least knew about the paranormal and how wide the world could get before he was hired as Head Archivist. Jasper was thrown in blind with no warning and was just told his life could pretty much end at any moment and there’s nothing he can do about it. It’s a jarring realization that Jon has at least twice a day. 

“It’s alright,” he says, though he knows his tone says otherwise. “I’m sorry you weren’t warned about the. . .hazards of working here beforehand.” 

Jasper shrugs and flips aimlessly through the tags on his chain. “It happens,” he says. “I mean, if I really think about it, it’s no worse than trying to corral thirteen drunk college kids back to a dorm.” Jon raises an eyebrow and Jasper shakes his head, blinking a couple times before he repositions himself to sit cross-leg. “College is wild.” 

“Quite. . . “ Jon thinks a moment before his eyebrows pull together. “Have you had a paranormal experience, Jasper?” 

“Not that I. . .” His sentence trails off and a distant look forms in his eye. He remains silent for a second, heavily spaced out and slowly fiddling with his necklace as if it’s a habit he does subconsciously. After a moment, he returns with a new determination in his eyes. “I need to rethink some life events,” he says, eyes flicking to something just beyond Jon’s shoulder. “Some--AH!” 

Jon jumps at the outcry and rises to his feet when Jasper leaps to his. “What?”

“We’re late!” Jasper says, rifling through his bag and pulling out a sandwich container and stuffing the remainder of his food inside before closing the top and dropping it back in the bag. “I knew you talked a lot but I didn’t think it was an hour’s worth,” he goes on, then promptly picks up his mug and downs the remainder of his cold coffee in one go. “We have to go!”

Jon is almost impressed, but he doesn’t have time to be before Jasper is swatting at his arm for him to get his own stuff. Once he manages to calm Jasper’s swatting and rushing, he glances at the empty mug in front of his seat. “I think I’m going to cut your coffee intake,” he notes quietly as he fishes a couple bills out of his pocket and drops them on the table. “For now, I’ll tell you not to worry about being late. Nothing and no one can fire us no matter how late we stay out, so no one’s going to care if we’re late, so long as we get back.” 

Thankfully Jasper doesn’t seem surprised at the statement. If he got surprised at everything he found at the Institute, he wouldn’t last long. Well, he would lose his mind faster than one who refuses to be too intimidated by anything. There is a healthy level of fear needed when dealing with the other beings, but to be petrified by fear isn’t productive. Jon knows that personally. 

“Alright,” Jasper says, then takes a moment to brush his hair down and gather himself. “Alright. Sorry. We should still get back.”

“You’re right,” Jon says reluctantly. “You’re. . .Right.” 

Jasper pushes a laugh and leads the way out, casting a friendly wave over his shoulder at the barista at the counter as they make their way back out the door and up the stairs to the street. “I doubt you’ll be able to keep me from coffee, by the way,” he says after a second. “I’m a college student. Plus. . .I don’t think I can survive here without it.” 

“Are you ok?” Jon asks, using his Compulsion to prod for a real answer rather than whatever college kid answer Jasper may give instead. “With everything I mean?”

The same strange look passes across Jasper’s face before it settles in a slight smile of remembrance. “Is this the Compelling thing you do?” he asks with a faint amusement. “It feels weird. Not prying, but like I want to tell you things.” 

“It is helpful in getting answers I want, especially from those who seem less than willing to be honest. A college kid who refuses to describe his life without the prodding, perhaps.” 

Jasper rolls his eyes and flips the necklace tag back to ‘she/her/hers.’ “To answer your question,” she says right before the tag flips to ‘they/them/theirs.’ “Not really. I’m kind of scared now that I think over the past week. Besides, like you said, there’s not really much I can do. I’m probably going to manage until I get back to my dorm, have a mild breakdown, drink some, then take an allergy pill to sleep. Then I’ll wake up, shower, and go about my day like nothing happened, same as always.” 

Jon blinks a couple times as they make their way back to the Institute, then turns his attention down to Jasper. “Is there. . . Should. . . Should I be concerned?”

“Hm? Oh. No. It’s fine. College.” 

“Right. . .” Jon makes a mental note to keep an eye on his new assistant. “Backing up a bit, you said something happened over the past week?” 

Jasper hums and flips the tag again. ‘He/him/his.’ “I guess I did.” There’s no move to elaborate. 

“Jasper.” 

‘She/her/hers.’ 

“Jasper.” 

“Look, I’ll make a statement later,” Jasper says, then flips the tag once more. ‘They/them/theirs.’ “I’m not even sure I’ve got enough of anything to make a statement right now.”

“But stuff has been happening?”

“I mean, obviously. Don’t weird things happen when you work at the Archives? Cause I’m almost positive that’s what you implied when you just gave your little spiel. Like, weird things happen all the time, obviously, otherwise we’d probably be out a job, but the weird things seem to close in on the Institute. Specifically Archives it seems. Whatever. It’s too late to go back now. If things get too bad, I’ll make a statement or make a sacrifice or cut off a finger--” 

“Jasper.” 

“Sorry, sorry. I’m nervous.” 

Jon can’t blame. . .what’s the current pronoun? Did they even change when Jasper flipped the tag, or was it just a nervous habit? He starts thinking it’s the latter since the tag flips again and it doesn’t seem like Jasper feels like stopping anytime soon. 

Either way, joking and moving on, along with other less than healthy coping mechanisms, appears to be how Jasper is going to deal with everything that comes along with working at the Magnus Institute’s Archives. Jon makes note to watch over the young assistant a bit more closely. Everyone has their own methods of coping with the stress of the Archives, but Jasper is too young, and Jon worries he’ll carry them through life. Not that any of them won’t. 

They reach the Institute and take a breath before making their way inside and down to the Archives. Jasper makes his way to his desk and Jon to his and they both set upon their tasks. Jon doesn’t know if their little heart to heart moment accomplished anything in terms of getting Jasper to trust him, but judging by the lack of earbuds, he thinks they made some progress. 

That assumption is made clear when Jasper swears slightly under his breath when his computer blue screens yet again. “Is there a way to tell which file is going to need to be read aloud?” he asks as he packs the file away again and jabs the power button on his computer. “Cause that would be great.” 

Jon offers a smile and extends a hand when Jasper rises to pass it over. “It helps to read them all the way through first,” he offers, accepting the file when Jasper places it in his hand. “If it seems unusually paranormal, then more than likely, it’ll need to be recorded.”

“Unusually paranormal?”

“That’s right.” 

Jasper stares at him. “Can you possibly describe what may be considered unusually paranormal in a place where bugs take over people and shadows walk on their own, Sims?” 

A response forms and immediately dies on Jon’s tongue at the name Jasper threw out so casually. “I’m sorry, did you just call me by my last name?” 

Jasper shrugs and slides his gaze to the floor hesitantly. “I figured it’d be a way to bridge the gap. I call most professors at my college by their last names since it feels more familiar than Mr./Ms. or Professor Blah Blah Blah but not super close.” He risks a glance up before returning his gaze to the floor. “You don’t like me calling you Mr. Sims, right? I figured since we had a moment, you deserved more than a formal address. But I was raised too well and now I have a hard time addressing older adults anything besides Mr/Ms. Blah Blah. Did you just Compel me?”

“Sorry,” Jon says. “Happens.” 

Jasper hums thoughtfully, then jumps harshly when his phone buzzes in his pocket. “Oh! Sorry! One minute, I have to take this.” 

“Go ahead.” 

A quick smile flashes on Jasper’s face before he turns, hurries to his desk to snatch a file from the desk, then scampers out the room. “Hello? Hey! Thanks for calling back. Can you take a road trip for me?” 

The door shuts before Jon can hear anything else and he raises an eyebrow at the question. After a moment, Jasper returns with triumphant shine in his eyes and adds another file to the finished stack on the edge of Jon’s desk. “Keep this open for another two days, but this is closed.” 

“What happened?” 

Jasper taps the file with a fingernail, which Jon now sees are actually painted the same shade of pink that colors his hair, before heading back to his desk. “The case was located in Australia,” he explains as he sits in his chair, then readjusts himself to sit on his leg. “I always hear you mumbling about not being able to do much follow-up on cases when they’re set in other countries. Luckily I have a friend in Australia at the moment, so I’m sending her to poke around for me.”

“You’re sending your friend to poke around a potentially dangerous, paranormal site?” 

“No. I’m sending my friend to get a fancy lunch from a wonderful three star restaurant someone tried to say is haunted or cursed because they kicked him out for being drunk.” 

“Oh.”

“Exactly. That is the debunked cases, correct? Cause you have a lot of piles on your desk.” 

“Yes, that’s the right pile. How do you know someone in Australia?” 

Jasper grabs another file and starts reading over the statement page. “Study abroad program. I am a co--”

“A college student, yes. We all know.” 

A quick smile is flashed in his direction before Jasper returns his attention to the file. “Don’t you have a statement to read?” Jon looks up and Jasper shrugs. “I need something to have in the background while I work and your reading voice is pretty solid.” 

Jon huffs a laugh as he reaches for one of the statements from the reading pile. “You aren’t even going to act like you’re not listening?” 

“I think we’re beyond me acting like I don’t.” 

He’s got a point. Jon isn’t going to say he isn’t self conscious about reading the statement aloud when he has an audience. The main reason he didn’t mind having Jasper in the same room when he read before since he at least acted like he was listening to music and not listening to Jon read. When he found out Jasper was listening, he did get nervous simply because Jon knows how statements make people feel. Himself, Martin, and everyone else who read a statement to the recorder are always left feeling odd, drained, or slightly more paranoid than usual. He was careful to keep his voice as low as possible when recording as to not be heard over Jasper’s music, but he supposes that’s all for nothing if there’s no music playing. 

That isn’t to say he’s immediately comfortable with the idea of having an audience when he’s recording. He doesn’t know if Jasper has felt any side effects from listening through earbuds and he isn’t sure listening overtly will have a stronger impact. Nevertheless, he does need to record a statement and he supposes he can’t exactly tell Jasper he can’t listen, nor can he kick him out of the Archives, mostly because Jasper doesn’t have any other desk or area of his own besides the one across the floor. 

That in mind, Jon sends a cautious look over to Jasper and finds him already looking at him curiously. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I can actually listen to music,” he offers, already reaching for the earbuds he had tucked in his bag before lunch. “I don’t--”

“Would you actually listen to music, or would you just put in the earbuds and not play music again?” Jon asks, pulling himself from his thoughts and adding a hint of mock suspicion in his tone. 

“Of course I’ll actually play music. You’re the boss, I can’t just NOT do what you tell me.” 

Jon laughs lightly and shakes his head. “You’re probably the only one in the office who listens,” he says. “Well, you and Martin.” 

“Really?” Jon hums an affirmative and Jasper makes a sound that sounds like a question. “How familiar are the people who work in the Archives?” 

“People can only be so formal after going through multiple life threatening events with one another.” 

There’s a pause before Jasper hums again. “I guess you have a point.” He shakes his head and holds his earbuds up. “So. . .” 

Jon waves him off. “You can listen if you’d like,” he says, though he doesn’t know if his tone hides his discomfort as well as he thinks. “It’s not like I can force you not to.” 

Jasper tosses his earbuds back in his bag and grabs the files once again. “If it makes you feel better, I’m only going to half listen since I just need something in the background while I work.” 

“Right.” 

Jasper holds a thumb up before he turns his attention to his work and Jon grabs his recorder from his bag. After making sure Jasper is at least half working on whatever he needs to as he lazily flips through the tags on his necklace, Jon nods to himself before hitting record. 

“Statement of Timothy Love regarding a strange feeling he gets around a bookshop in Soho. Original statement given 9th October, 2007. Audio recorded by Jonathan Sims, The Archivist. Statement begins. . .” 

As suspected, Jasper worked half-heartedly through the file he picked, mostly focusing on the story Jon reads into the recorder. He did get his work done though, so Jon can’t complain too much about that. However, it’s obvious his heart wasn’t in his work, hands stopping more than once for about two minutes at a time before returning to the assigned task. He tensed at the appropriate places, nearly stopped breathing at the part about being stalked, and Jon swears he nearly leapt out of his skin when he dropped his pen when he read about the lights going out. It took all Jon had not to laugh, but as always, he made it through and by the time that happened, it was time to leave. 

“Are you alright?” Jon asks, causing Jasper to look up while he tucks his belongings back into his bag. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“I’m fine,” Jasper assures. “It’s just. . . You’re a really good story teller. It’s like you pull the emotions and vibes from the stories as you read them and it’s palpable. Plus you get really into it and it’s kind of spooky to listen to. But again, I have a plan.” 

“The one where you drink and act like nothing happened?” Jon says as Jasper flips through a file and slides it in his bag. “What are you doing?” 

“Hm?” 

“The file in your bag? What are you doing?”

“Oh! The address given for the abandoned house in the file isn’t too far from the flat I’m renting currently. I was going to pop by and--” 

“Wait, you’re planning on GOING to one of the locations?” 

“To see if it’s still standing, yes.” 

“After everything you’ve heard today, do you really think that’s the best idea?”

“I’m not an idiot. I wasn’t going to walk into an abandoned, supposedly haunted house after dark by myself. I was just going to walk by to see if it’s still standing since the statement giver said it burned down.”

“Walking by it by yourself after dark still doesn’t sound like a good idea considering the alleged on goings at the house.” 

“I’m not going to stick my face in a window, Sims. I’m just going to stand on the sidewalk a safe distance away, snap a photo or two for printing later, and leave.” 

“And if something were to go wrong?”

“Then you’d probably need a new assistant.” 

“Jasper.”

“What? It’s a reasonable assumption.” 

“ _ Jasper. _ ” 

There’s a pause before Jasper sighs and rifles through his bag again. “Look, give me your phone number.”

“What, why?”

“When I get back home, safe and uncursed, I’ll call you so you won’t stay up all night worrying yourself sick over me.” 

“I wasn’t going to worry myself sick.” Jon does, however, scribble his number down on the offered paper before passing it back. “There.” 

“Thanks Sims.” 

“Don’t get close.” 

“I’m not stupid. Hey, is that thing still recording?” 

“What? Oh.”

Jon clicks the tape recorder off. 

“Sorry. I don’t even notice anymore.” 

Jasper nods. “Do not spill secrets to Jon because he will record them. Noted.”

“I won’t record your secrets unless I feel like I need to.” 

“Vaguely threatening, but alright. Anyway, I’ll text you the address I’ll be checking out and if you don’t hear from me by seven thirty, send an exorcist or something.”

“ **_Jasper_ ** _. _ ” 

“What!? That one was almost serious!” 

They make their way out of the Archives and the Institute back into London proper. After a few minutes, Jon’s phone buzzes with an address and an emoji of a ghost. Jon rolls his eyes as he saves the number under Jasper’s name. He doesn’t respond though, since there’s no real point. Jasper said he was going to text, so Jon has to wait. Besides, Jon thinks it’s improper for him to text an employee outside of work.    


At six fifty-five, Jon’s phone buzzes again and he checks his messages to find a picture of a rotten, brick apartment building. The scorch marks around the windows and boarded up door suggests a devastating fire that surprisingly didn’t ruin the structural integrity of the building. It looks like the photo was taken with flash, so it deepens the shadows in the windows and causes the rusted metal fixtures to shine ominously. 

Then comes another text of the same building, but this time has a blurry image of a thumbs up in the forefront. 

**Not dead**

**Not cursed**

Jon sends a quick text asking him to get home safe before setting his phone aside and getting ready for bed despite the early hour. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Missed a week for various life reasons, but I'll try to keep those skips to a minimum. But life is wild now (duh), so I can't make promises. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who leaves kudos or comments. It makes my day!


	4. Slow Day

Two days later, Jon heads to the Archives as usual, but pauses right before he passes the library. A familiar voice floats through the door from the browsing room, He almost doesn’t stop, but another voice comes through, clear as day and just as familiar as the first. This grabs his attention and he casts a quick glance to the librarian and makes his way inside. 

Jon has never spent a lot of time in the library, and looking at the neat rows and shelves of books, he wishes he did. Obviously in his choice of work, Jon loves to read. Given everything that has been going on, he hasn’t had much time for leisure reading. His eyes can’t help but wander around the titles around him as he lazily follows the voices to one of the desks near the wall of windows in the back. 

Martin reads something from a dinosaur printed composition notebook held protectively in front of his face, then lowers it to look at Jasper as a tight, thoughtful look forms on his face. Their face. Now that Jonathan is closer, he can clearly see the ‘they/them/their’ tag on the top of the stack. 

“Prester John,” they say as Jon comes within hearing range. 

Martin smiles and nods. “Correct.” Jasper’s own victorious grin spreads on their face as Martin’s eyes flick to Jon as he approaches. “Oh! Good morning, Jon.”

Jasper tilts his head dramatically as they follow Martin’s attention to Jon as he stops at the edge of the desk. “Hey Sims.” 

“Good morning,” Jon greets. “What’s going on here?” 

“I have a history exam tomorrow. Martin saw me struggling and offered to help before we clock in.” 

“You weren’t really struggling,” Martin rejects quickly. “I just remember how hard it was to keep focused with no one there to hold you accountable.” 

“AKA, I was on my phone and Martin called me on it.” 

Jon nods and hums a quick understanding sound. Martin lifts a finger before anyone can go any further and points at Jasper. “I’m sorry, did you just call Jon by his last name? Are we secret agents now?” 

“Jasper has a problem with formality,” Jon explains. “Namely in dropping formalities. H-They. . .” He earns a quick thumbs up from Jasper at the change and nods before continuing. “They don’t know how to drop formalities with people who are, quote, ‘actual adults.’ Which, according to him, are people who have surpassed their twenties. I told them to call me Jon or Jonathan, but they seem physically incapable of doing so. However, they have dropped the ‘Mister’ from in front of the ‘Sims’, so we’re counting it as a step in the right direction.” 

Martin raises an eyebrow and glances at Jasper. “So how come you call me by my first name instead of Blackwood?” 

Jasper shrugs. “Difference between coworker and boss I guess.” 

“Fair enough.” 

“Speaking of work,” Jon says, grabbing the attention of both assistants and looking to Jasper. “Have you heard from your friend in Australia? Did she have any opinions of your debunked haunted restaurant?”

“She said the shrimp salad was divine and the soup was vastly overrated. I’ll write a note and stick it in the file and we can close it out.” 

“Thank you. And your trip to the haunted house went well, I presume?” 

“Not dead, not cursed.” There’s a big show of Jasper motioning to themself before shrugging carelessly. “Unless I did die and am bound to the Institute as was strongly implied a few days ago.” 

Martin stiffens and Jon glares. “ _ Jasper. _ ” 

“Is he always like this?” Martin asks, glancing at Jon nervously. “Cause--” Jasper clears their throat loudly and Martin glances over, spotting the tag on the necklace and releasing a quiet ‘oh’ of distress. “I’m sorry!” Back to Jon. “Are THEY always like this?” he corrects, earning a quick nod from Jasper as they recline in their chair again. “Cause it’s kind of unsettling if they are.” 

“It seems like they are,” Jon says through a disappointed huff. “It’s some sort of coping mechanism, or so they say. That or. . .What was it again? Drinking and taking allergy pills to sleep?”

Jasper rolls their eyes. “Are you just going to verbally attack me the entire time I’m here? Because if you are, I’ll happily walk into whatever door opens in a place it’s not supposed to be over dealing with that anyday.” 

“ **_Jasper._ ** ” 

Martin looks between Jon and Jasper in concern. “Should we be concerned about Jasper?” 

“They’re working at the Institute, so of course. However, I do believe we need to take extra precautions since they’re so young.” 

Jasper throws their hands up in mock exasperation. “You cannot verbally attack your coworkers, Sims. It’s not professional.” 

“We aren’t very professional in the Archives.” 

“I can see.” They sigh and reach out to lightly pluck the notebook from Martin’s hands. “I don’t have to stand for this,” they say, though their tone suggests dramatic annoyance rather than actual annoyance. “I’m going to work. Hopefully I’ll trip down the stairs and break my neck so I can haunt you all for all eternity.” 

Jon wants to say something, to groan in annoyance or even pinch the bridge of his nose tiredly. But he can’t. Jasper has made it very clear that they aren’t going to stop making morbid jokes and that isn’t really the highest on Jon’s list of priorities right now. So long as they get their work done and don’t seem to be travelling down an awful path too fast, Jon will stop complaining about it. Out loud. He can’t, however, suppress the tired sigh he gives as they pack away their notebook and rise to their feet.

“You’d probably be the least scary thing I’ve dealt with since this all started,” he says, sparing Martin a glance as he grabs his own bag and stands. “So feel free.” 

Jasper barks a quick laugh. “Now you’re getting it.” 

“I’m just tired of arguing with you.” 

“And that’s how I win a majority of arguments I get in.” 

Martin’s brow furrows together and he glances to Jon’s bag. “Is your recorder running?” 

Jon jumps slightly and rifles through his bag until he finds his tape recorder and swears before hitting stop. “It’s like these things have a mind of their own.” 

“It’s a shame that I’m used to it,” Martin says, watching Jon tuck the recorder away again as they all make their way to the Archives’ stairs. “It’s not even that unsettling anymore.” 

Jon hums and Jasper doesn’t say anything as they descend, unsurprised to find themselves the first ones in. Tim has made it a habit to come in late and Melanie and Brasira show up whenever they please, mostly before noon. Nobody can pin down Daisy except Elias, so no one tries anymore since she’s more than likely out on some sort of secret mission whenever she’s out. 

They reach the bottom of the stairs and they make their way to their respective offices, Jasper stepping side to let Jon enter first before following him in and making their way to their desk. A tired huff rolls from Jasper’s nose as they settle in, then shift their sitting position and just sit and stare at the files on their desk. Jon glances up for a moment and frowns in concern. It’s only been about two weeks since Jasper started working but there are already the tell-tale signs of exhaustion deepening the bags under their eyes. He assumes that working at the Archives and feeling all the emotions and pressures that come along with such while attending college full time is taking its toll. He just would have hoped it would have taken longer to sink in. 

“What time did you get to sleep last night?” Jasper hums and drags their eyes from the desk. “I’m assuming late seeing how sluggish you are.” 

Jasper shakes their head, then ponders for a moment before flipping the to the ‘she/her/hers’ tag on the-her necklace. “I’m alright,” she says. “I’m fine.” 

“That doesn’t answer the question.” 

“Late. . .uh. . . Like. . . Four thirty?” 

“Why?” 

“I had to write an essay. It’s due tonight at eleven something and I had to finish up.” 

“And finishing up meant staying up until four thirty in the morning, then getting up at whatever hour it was that brought you to the Institute at eight thirty?” 

“Yeah it did. It got turned in though, so that’s all the matters.” 

“Well being tired isn’t going to help anyone.” 

“I’ll get my work done,” Jasper assures, reaching over and plucking the closest file from the first pile she looks at. “Don’t worry.” 

Jon watches for a moment as Jasper straightens and grabs her laptop from her bag and booting up. She doesn’t give any clear indications of exhaustion other than yawning every minute, so he decides not to push the issue. He settles in his own work and makes note of how many files need to be recorded. He’ll still flick his gaze over to Jasper every few minutes, but she does get her work done. Thankfully as lunch rolls around, she doesn’t pass along any files for Jon to read and keeps the pile steady. 

Jasper stretches and groans after setting a file aside, then leans forward and rests their head on their desk. “I’m going to nap for lunch,” she decides. “Yeah. I’m going to nap. Is that alright?” 

“I don’t care,” Jon says, mimicking Jasper’s stretch then settling again. “Do you want me to bring you anything?” 

“Not really,” she says. She shifts to sit cross-legged in her seat and folds her arms under her head to get comfortable. “Wake me up when lunch is over, yeah?” 

“Alright. Have a nice nap.” 

Jasper hums lazily and nods slowly. Jon returns the nod despite the fact Jasper didn’t see it before standing and gathering his bag. He makes his way out of the office and flicks the lights off, earning a quiet ‘Thanks, Sims’ from Jasper just before the door closes. 

Martin is standing close by as Jon turns and both of them jump or give little cries of surprise when they face each other. “God, Martin,” Jon says once the initial shock wears off. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t think you were coming out.” 

“Well, it is lunch time and despite popular belief, I don’t want to spend my entire life in the Archives.” He breathes out tiredly and swipes a hand down his face. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing!” Martin assures quickly. “I was just coming to see if you wanted to have lunch.” 

“Lunch would be nice. Thank you Martin.” 

Martin nods and glances over to peek in the window on the door behind Jon. “Is Jasper alright? The lights are off, does that mean--” 

“Jasper’s taking a nap,” Jon says. “Don’t worry. She said she was working on a paper all night and didn’t get to bed until almost five.” 

“And. . .she?” 

Jon nods. 

“She got up and came to work?” 

“I’m starting to think that insanity is also a requirement in order to work in the Archives.” 

Martin nods slowly. “So. . . It’s just us then?” 

Jon pauses and clears his throat. “Yes. I suppose it is.” 

“Is that a problem? Because--”

“No, no, no. It’s fine. I feel like. . . It’d be a calmer situation if it were just us. More. . . Relaxing.” 

“Yeah,” Martin says, continuing his slow, thoughtful nod. “I think so too.” 

“Jasper showed me this nice coffee shop a few blocks away. We could go there. My treat.” 

“I’d like that.”    


And they go. The conversation that flows between them is pleasant and light and Jon can almost forget the horrible shit he’s been through over the past few months. It’s just him and Martin in a coffee shop talking and laughing and letting everything else fall away. It’s nice and it finally feels like Jon can release the weight of the world that had taken residence on his shoulders and he can breathe. 

But the illusion breaks as the time reads one and the lunch hour passes. Jon insists on sitting longer, waiting until almost closing time since nothing bad can happen if they let time pass them by. Martin, of course, rejects the idea, but there is a sadness in his voice. He doesn’t want to leave either. However, he scheduled Jon to take a statement at one thirty, so they have to leave.    


Jon relents and picks up the world again on his way out of the shop. 

Back in the Archives, a man sits on the chair near his office, undoubtedly guided in by Basira or someone else who wandered in while he was gone. Martin smiles at the man as he approaches and sticks out a hand once the man looks up. “I assume you’re Lionel Jacobs.” 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Lionel confirms. “You’re Jon?”

“That would be me,” Jon corrects, offering his own hand once Martin’s hand is released. “Hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Nah, I was early.” 

“Great. Thank you Martin, I’ll call you if I need you.” 

Martin nods. “Right. I’ll be here.” 

Martin leaves and Jon has to fight the urge to sigh. While he does need Statements to survive now, he didn’t want his time with Martin to end so soon. Nevertheless, there is a job to do. “Right this way,” he says, opening his office door and flipping on the light. “You can sit in the chair by--” 

“Is that a kid?” 

“What?” Lionel points and Jon follows the finger to where Jasper lies sleeping on their desk. They don’t look like they’ve moved since Jon left and they didn’t stir when the lights flicked on. “Oh!”

“Is that your kid?” Lionel asks, lowering his finger as he turns his eyes to Jon. “Do--”

“She isn’t my kid, she’s my assistant,” Jon corrects. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot she was asleep in here.”

“Should you wake her up?” 

“Uh. . .I don’t think I was planning on it, but I can send them out if you’re uncomfortable with them being here.” 

Lionel ponders the thought, then shakes his head. “Not really. What’d you call the kid? She? She didn’t stir when we came in, so I don’t think a bit of talking is gonna do anything. She looks like she’s dead if I’m being quite honest.” 

“If you’re sure. . . Wait.” He slips from around his desk and makes his way over to Jasper, crouching down and gently shaking her shoulder until she groans softly and cracks an eye open. “Hey, Jasper.” 

“‘S it time to wake up?” Jasper grumbles, turning her head to rub her eyes on her arms. “I’m--” 

“No, no. Not yet. But can you put your earbuds in? I’m taking a Statement.” 

“Do you wamme to leave?”

“No, your earbuds should suffice.”

Jasper nods and moves to riffle through her bag for her earbuds. After a minute, they’re secured in place and Jasper turns on a song before mumbling something else and falling asleep again. “Lemme know when yer done.” 

“Right.” Jon pushes himself to a stand and nods finally. “Right then.” He turns and makes his way back to his desk as Lionel finally takes his seat. “There we go. Shouldn’t have a problem now.” 

“If you say so.” 

Jon takes his own seat and moves to click the tape recorder on, only to stop short once he finds it’s already recording. “Ok then.” He folds his arms on the desk and clears his throat. “Statement of Lionel Jacobs regarding. . .”

“A coin I found while metal detecting a few weeks back.” 

“Statement recorded directly from subject, 17th June, 2019. Statement begins. . .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are all tired and we all love TMA. I don't know what else to say here today. 
> 
> Thanks so much for the support I've gotten on this story. Please be sure to leave kudos and comments if you enjoy this story, it is my life blood! 
> 
> Thanks!


	5. That night

Jon ends up letting Jasper sleep through the entire final half of the day. He knows it’s probably not what a responsible boss does, but he understands how college is and he is willing to let one kid get some sleep so long as work gets done. So far, Jasper has proven efficient and manages to get through at least three files a day with incredibly accurate information. Of course, all of his assistants manage about the same pace when they feel like working, so given that it is only her first month on the job, Jon is willing to loosen the reins slightly. 

Five o’clock rolls around and Jon stretches then rises from his chair and makes his way to Jasper’s desk. Once again, he lightly shakes her shoulder and calls her name until she groans and shifts her head slightly. She moves a hand and drags the headphone from her ear and opens an eye yet again. “Hey Sims.” 

“Good evening, Jasper.” 

“Evening?” 

“It’s five o’clock.”

“What!?” Jasper straightens quickly, then holds her forehead for a moment in what Jon guesses is a head rush. She slaps her desk for her phone before finding it and scanning the time on the screen. “What the fffffffff--heck!” 

“I let you sleep.”

“Why!?” 

“It looked like you haven’t slept in longer than a day. I know how exhaustion can be and you need all the sleep you can get if you’re going to be working here and attending school full time.” 

“I’ve handled more on less sleep, Sims.” 

“And that statement isn’t assuring.” 

Jasper sighs and kneads her eye with the heel of her hand as a yawn forces itself to the surface. “Well, I can’t say I’m not thankful for the sleep,” she starts in tired defeat. “But you didn’t have to do that.”   


Jon shrugs and turns back to his desk. “Having you exhausted isn’t going to help anything and letting you sleep for a few hours didn’t hurt anything. While I can’t say it’s going to happen every time you feel tired on the job, I will say sleeping here is better than sleeping in class.” 

“I appreciate it.” She stretches deeply and groans tiredly, then settles with a satisfied grunt and looks a bit more awake than she did a minute ago. “Well, I suppose that was a day wasted, but at least I’m more prepared for my exam, I suppose.” 

Jon narrows his eyes skeptically and looks over to Jasper. “Are you planning on staying up late again?” 

Jasper shrugs and pokes on her phone for a few seconds. “Don’t know. It’s too early to tell. Besides, sleep is weird nowadays.”   


“What does that mean?”    


“We’re off the clock. I’ll get into it later.” 

“No. What is happening with your sleep?”

“Nothing too terrible compared to the shitshow that seems to be life in the Archives.” 

“Jasper.” 

“You can say my name as angrily as you want.” 

“ _ Jasper. _ ”

“Look, I said I’d make a statement if something statement worthy happens, didn’t I? I haven’t forgotten and I’ll stick to my word. Until then, let it go.” 

Jon almost argues, but a soft knock on the door pulls both of their attention and Martin opens the door. “Hello. Came to see if everyone was ready to-- Oh! Did I interrupt something?” 

“Sims seems to think that every weird thing that happens to people requires a statement,” Jasper says. “It’s like he feeds on them or something.” Jon and Martin share a look and Jasper’s eyes widen as she yanks out her earbuds and slams her phone on the desk. “Fuck off!?” Then she slaps a hand over her mouth in shock. “Pardon the language, but really?” 

“We don’t exactly call it that,” Martin says hesitantly. 

“But, statements do provide. . .” Jon picks up in the same manner. “. . . A sort of. . . Nourishment. For me.” 

Jasper looks between the two for a second before landing her gaze on Martin. “Does everyone who works here get spooky ghost powers? Cause I want one.” 

Martin lets out a short laugh that’s quickly silenced by Jon’s cold glare, and he’s even quicker to clear his throat to cover his amusement at the situation. 

“Anyway, I have plans, so I have to leave,” Jasper says, flipping the necklace to ‘they/them/their’ before swiping a file and slipping it into their bag. “I have an exam tomorrow, but other than that I’ll be in all day.” 

“Good luck on your exam,” Martin says, high-fiving Jasper when they pass by on their way out the door. “Make sure to brush up on the East Asian trading history a bit more and you should be fine.” 

“Thanks Martin,” Jasper calls, then disappears down the hall toward the upper levels of the library. 

Martin smiles in a way that makes Jon’s cheeks warm and looks away just as Martin looks at him. “Jasper’s a good kid,” he says. “Shame she got stuck working here, though.” 

“I think they changed pronouns before they left,” Jon corrects, gathering his coat and bag from their places around his desk and straightening. “Shall I walk you to the underground, Martin?” 

“Oh.” Martin is almost surprised at the question and Jon almost feels silly for asking. But then Martin smiles and Jon’s worries alleviate instantly. “Yes, thank you. That would be lovely.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today, lads. it seemed longer when I wrote it, but I guess not. 
> 
> Hope it was worth it. Next chapter should be longer. 
> 
> Please be sure to leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed it!


	6. An Event

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise? 
> 
> Content warnings for this chapter: 
> 
> Transphobia, mentions of violence, blood, mentions of medical procedures

“. . . .And I’m just hoping that I won’t have to spend anymore nights just waiting for something I know is coming. That’s what it wants though, isn’t it? It takes pleasure in knowing that all it has to do to torment me is have me wait. The waiting is the worst part. Somedays I wish it’ll just. . . kill me to get it over with. At least I wouldn’t have to wait. . .

“Statement ends.” Jonathan sighs and leans forward to set the paper aside. “There’s not much follow-up that can be done in this case. As is said in Mr. Trast’s own words, we can not study dreams or. . .sleep paralysis demons as he calls them. The only--” 

The door opens slowly and Jasper slips inside, meeting Jon’s eyes and nodding once before turning to. . . Damn. Jon didn’t see the pronoun necklace, so he doesn’t know how to refer to Jasper in his head. A minor inconvenience that can be remedied by simply asking, but Jon’s mind isn’t on pronouns right now. 

No, what catches Jon’s attention is the black eye, bruises, and stitched lip that was flashed when Jasper nodded. 

“Jasper, what the hell!?” he says, shoving away from his desk and making his way to Jasper. 

“Hm? Oh, I found one of the ghost things from the statements,” Jasper says, setting his (Jon notes with a quick glance. Is that a new chain?) bag on the desk and grabbing the file from it. “Turns out, it’s the plot of a manga I read. Had to bring the file home to confirm--”

“Not that,” Jon interrupts, though he does accept the file and toss it in the direction of his desk. “What happened to your face.” 

“That’s what my mum said when I was born, actually.” 

“ **_Jasper._ ** ”

“Drunk transphobes!” Jasper says, jerking as if the words were forcibly ripped from his throat. “I was on the tube home from a friend's house and a few drunk assholes happened to be in the car, alright. It seemed like they were opposed to the fact that I don’t exactly look traditionally. . . gendered, I guess? I didn’t want to engage, but they wouldn’t shut up and I mentioned something rude about someone’s mum and there wasn’t very many people in the car and they took that as an invitation to tell me exactly how they felt at the moment. There were four of them and only two other people in the car and they couldn’t do much against drunk bastard energy and I couldn’t move since two of them were holding me in place. Not that I could do much anyway since the first hit actually cracked a rib and made it hard to breathe and by the time we got to the next station and someone flagged down some patrol men, I could barely see out of my left eye and my ears were ringing and everything hurt and it hurt to breathe and suddenly I was on the floor and everyone was shouting and-- and-- and. . .” 

Hot tears cut trails down Jasper’s face and Jon’s sure he’s about to have a panic attack. He didn’t mean to Compel Jasper into telling him, but it felt right at the time since Jasper doesn’t like to talk. Now, as he stands by and watches Jasper choke out his story and relive his fear, he doesn’t feel so secure in his choice anymore. 

“Jasper,” he says softly, reaching out and catching Jasper’s hand as he lifts it to grab at his hair. “Hey.” 

“You know what the worst part is?” Jasper says, shaking Jon’s hand off and swiping the back of it under his eyes. “My necklace chain snapped! That’s so minor, yeah? It shouldn’t matter, right, since I got home mostly safe. But my dad got it for me right before he died when I was sixteen. I kept it safe all these years, and some stupid, drunken ASSHOLES snapped it.” 

“Jasper,” Jon repeats, this time catching and securing Jasper’s wrist as he goes for his hair again. “Jasper.” 

“What!?” 

“Breathe.” 

The laugh that pushes from Jasper’s core is bitter and humorless and accompanied by a roll of the eyes so forceful Jon’s surprised he doesn’t have a headache. “I’m trying, Sims,” he snaps. “It hurts!” 

Jon knows about broken ribs. “Sorry.” Another short bark of bitter laughter and Jon covers Jasper’s hand with his. “I’m so sorry.” 

Jasper sniffs violently and shakes his head, his whole body trembling so bad Jon fears he’s going to fall over. “You’re not transphobic,” he says. “It’s not your fault.” He forces a smile and shakes his head slowly. “I couldn’t get to bed early last night, Sims. Sorry. Guess the universe just wants me awake for some reason.” 

“Shut up.” Jon pulls out Jasper’s chair and guides him to sit. “I’m not really worrying about your sleeping habits right now. Though we will have a conversation about it in the future if things don’t improve.” 

Jasper laughs, this time less tight than the previous and ends with him wrapping a protective arm around his center. You can’t really laugh with broken ribs. “You sound like my doctor,” he says. “Except you can’t get me sleeping pills like he can, can you?” 

“I’m afraid not.” 

“Useless.” 

Jon laughs and releases Jasper’s hand when he shakes it free, then watches as he swipes his eyes again. This time Jon notices all the dried blood around Jasper’s nose, on his cheek, and staining the front of his shirt, which is the same shirt he wore yesterday now that Jon thinks about it. “There’s a lot of blood on your. . . everything?” 

Jasper hums as if he didn’t notice, then shrugs. “I didn’t have time to clean up,” he explains tiredly. “Couldn’t get out the hospital till five something cause they wanted to run concussion tests and take x-rays and all the other. . . Fine. . .bullshit that comes after a fight. By the time all that happened, I had to. . .” He pauses, sighs, then shakes his head tiredly. “I’m rambling. Long story short, there was no time.” 

“And yet you still came here?"   


“And I took my exam.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m in college, Sims. The exam was worth twenty percent of my grade and I. . .Well. I’m here cause I need money.” 

Jon can’t argue with that. However. . . “Does that mean you also haven’t eaten yet?” 

Jasper nods. Then shakes his head. “I don’t know how to portray no.” 

“Would you like some tea?” 

Jasper’s eyes close and his shoulders relax. “Yes please,” he huffs. “That would be great.” Jon nods and moves to leave, only to be caught by the wrist and held in place. “Can you not tell Martin,” he asks. “I feel like he’s going to--”

There’s a soft knock on the door and Martin enters, smiling brightly and glancing over the office in confusion when he doesn’t immediately see Jon in his chair. After a second, he finds them both at Jasper’s desk. “Good mor--” His smile drops as soon as he processes everything and Jasper swears quietly behind Jon. “What happened!?” 

“Fell down the stairs,” Jasper says quickly. “Quite a tumble, actually. Slipped while walking to the tube.” 

Martin looks to Jon for confirmation, but Jon doesn't know what to do. Jasper wouldn’t have told Jon what happened had he not been Compelled, and he’s clearly avoiding the conversation with Martin. As much as Jon doesn’t enjoy the concept of lying to Martin, he also understands that Jasper is an adult and he can make his own decisions. That and Jasper subtly tightening his hold on Jon’s wrist makes him think of a silent plea, so he keeps quiet.    


“Yeah,” he says. “He was just telling me about it. Nasty fall.” 

The look Martin gives him lets Jon know the conversation isn’t done, but he will let it go in front of Jasper. “So, how come you’re in the clothes from yesterday?” 

“Didn’t get out the hospital till late,” Jasper says with a shrug. “Took my exam and didn’t have time to change before coming here.” He laughs quietly to himself, then winces and holds his ribs protectively. “I didn’t think I’d make it past the front desk, but then the librarian realized I work in the Archives and waved me through.”

“You should clean up,” Martin says. “Go wash your face in the bathroom and I’ll see if there’s a shirt in the lost and found so you can get the stains out of yours. What size do you wear?” 

“Uhm. . . Medium or large depending on the gender.” 

“Great.” 

And then he’s gone. Jon and Jasper stare at the door as it swings shut and Jasper sighs again. Jon glances over as Jasper rubs his temple with his fingers. “Why are you here?”

Jasper raises an eyebrow. “Cause I’m legally and supernaturally bound to be here?”   


“You know that’s not what I mean.” 

“Because I need money.” 

“You could have called in and got paid to stay home.”

Jasper shakes his head. “I really couldn’t. I’d linger on everything and spiral and. . . It really wouldn’t really be good is what I’m saying. What I need now is to have normalcy and work is going to give me that.” 

Somehow Jon understands. When the world was crazy, organizing and recording statements provided some structure and helped him recharge. Of course, now that he knows that reading statements is literally something that keeps him alive, the whole situation is cast in a different light. It doesn’t take away from the sentiment, though. 

“Martin was right, though,” Jon says, shaking his hand free of Jasper’s grasp and finally making his way to the door. “You need to clean up. I’ll go make some tea and see if we have some biscuits or something in the break room.” 

“Thanks, Sims,” he hears Jasper huff as something shuffles behind him. He leaves the office door open on his way out and assumes Jasper will close it when he passes by. After a few minutes, the three return to the office and meet in front of the door, Jon holding a tray of tea cups and the steeping pot, Martin with a handful of various shirts, and Jasper with a significantly cleaner face. 

“I found a few options,” Martin says, offering the shirts to Jasper with a smile. “They’re all pretty weird, but security says they won’t be missed if they’re gone.” 

“Thanks,” Jasper says as he accepts the offerings. “I hope none of them smell.” 

“So do I. I gave them a preliminary sniff though and nothing too terrible stuck out. Then again, lost and found is in a pretty dingy place.” 

Jasper shrugs. “Whatever it is, it’ll be fine for the day. Thanks Martin.” 

“Yes, yes, you have shirts,” Jon says impatiently. “Now can someone open the door? This is not as light as it looks.” 

Jasper turns back to the bathroom and slings the shirts to hang over his shoulder. “You got it, Martin. I need to change.” 

Luckily Martin doesn’t wait for another invitation and pushes the door open, stepping inside and aside to allow Jon the room he needs to enter without jostling anything. “Thank you, Martin,” Jon says as he sets the tray on his desk. “I brought enough for you, too, if you would like some.” 

“Thank you, Jon,” Martin says. “I would actually. And as we wait, you can tell me what actually happened to Jasper.” 

Jon stiffens and huffs heavily through his nose. “It’s not my place to say. I had to Compel the answer out of him if we’re being honest. If he wants to make a fuss, he will. Until then, we can’t force him.”

“You can.” 

“Shut up.” 

The door swings open again and Jasper walks in, the sight of him causing Martin and Jon to fight and lose to a bout of laughter brought up by the hot pink crop top Jasper decided to wear. The shirt itself isn’t bad, no, in fact, this particular shade of pink looks good on Jasper’s skin tone. No, what causes Jon and Martin to laugh are the words “Super Gay, Super Stupid,” printed in rainbow bubble letters across the front. 

“I’m keeping this,” he announces, tossing the remaining shirts on an empty shelf beside the door. “This shirt speaks to me.” 

“It speaks to everyone,” Martin agrees.    


“But is the message worth it?” Jon finishes as he pours the tea and passes a cup as Jasper passes by. 

“Right now. . . Yeah,” Jasper says. Then he takes a sip of the hot drink and humming contentedly. “Alright. Time to work.” 

Martin accepts his cup as Jon hands it over and takes the chair beside Jon’s desk as Jon moves to sit in his own chair. “You said that case file you took home was false?” Jon says, raising his voice slightly to get Jasper’s attention before he breaks out his earbuds. “A manga?” 

“Yeah,” Jasper says, setting his earbuds on his desk and moving for his laptop. “Walking fish that smelled like death? That’s a horror manga I haven’t read in a while, but my friend had my copy when I went to his house to study.” He sets his laptop on top of his earbuds, then reaches back in his bag and pulls out a hardback book with a black cover and a white spine. Jon notes how the spine is on the wrong side, then remembers that Japanese books are printed right to left rather than left to right. “I forgot I loaned it to him right until I read the file. Interesting story.”

“And someone tried to sell it off as if it really happened to them,” Martin says through a disappointed huff. “People don’t take us seriously.” 

“I wouldn’t take us seriously if I didn’t work here,” Jon mutters, though his volume doesn’t prevent anyone from hearing him. Jasper snorts and Martin glares with no anger behind it and Jon shrugs. “It’s true. A lot of what we get in is, as Jasper said previously, bullshit.” 

“Jon!” Martin exclaims. “You’ve seen at least half of what these people were describing firsthand! How can you call that bullshit?” 

“I believe in that. But other than the fraction of what I know is true, most statements can easily be written off as drunken delusions, drugged up hazes, or some combination of the two.” 

Martin rolls his eyes and angrily sips his tea. Jasper glances between the two as if watching a TV drama play out, then quickly looks away when he meets Jon’s gaze. Jon rolls his eyes and takes his own sip of tea. “So Jasper. How do you plan on getting home tonight?” 

Jasper raises an eyebrow and lowers the cup he was about to drink from. “What do you mean?” 

“Falling down the stairs to the underground,” Jon says pointedly. “Must make you cautious to go down the stairs again. Dark and rainy and slick, yes?” 

It takes a moment for Jasper to remember the lie he told to get Martin off his back, then rolls his eyes once he does. “I don’t always FALL down the stairs, Sims. In fact, this is the first occasion to escalate to this level before.” 

“And if it does again? It is a Friday night. Things get wild on Fridays and people may not care whether or not you manage to stay on the stairs or if you land yourself in the hospital for hours on end without letting anyone know again.” 

“I won’t.” 

“And how can you guarantee that?” 

“Why do you sound like a parent all of a sudden?” 

Jon’s next argument cuts out with a sputter and Jasper raises a challenging eyebrow. “How. . . We. . . I don’t. . .” He scoffs when Martin purses his lips in an attempt to hide his amusement. “I don’t see how worrying about your safety makes me sound like a parent. I just don’t want my assistants to get hurt.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“It’s true.” 

“I’m working, Sims,” Jasper says, taking another sip before setting the cup aside and grabbing a random file. “Someone let me sleep through half my shift yesterday, so I have a lot to catch up on today.” 

“Honestly, you could work for a month straight through and we wouldn’t crack half the Archives, so sleeping one day didn’t hurt anything.” 

“He’s got a point,” Martin agrees with a sage-like nod. “The Archives are extensive and messy.” 

Jasper shrugs and barely stifles a yawn as it pushes through. “I still have to try. It is my job.” 

Jon can’t argue with that, so he hums and sets his own cup aside. “I suppose he’s right. We should get to work.” 

Martin looks disappointed as he nods and gathers his tea. “I suppose. Are you free for lunch today? I found this wonderful tea house near the underground and--” 

“That sounds great,” Jon interrupts quickly, then just as quickly settles himself back to regain his composure. “I mean, yes. That sounds nice.” 

“Great! Oh!” He glances over at Jasper, who purses his lips tightly as he scans the file intensely. “Jasper, would you like to join us?” 

Jasper shakes his head. “No thanks, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure? We could--” 

“I’m good, thanks.” 

Martin looks pleased at the information, but does his best to keep it off his face. “If you’re sure.” 

“I am.”

“Right.” Martin returns his attention to Jon. “Looks like it’s just you and me again.” 

“Looks like,” Jon agrees. “See you then.” 

“See you then.” 

Martin leaves and Jon watches the door for a moment before sighing and turning back to his desk.    


“That’s pretty gay, boss.” 

Jon looks up and finds Jasper beaming at him, the file he was previously looking at completely abandoned in favor of leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk. “It’s cute. How long have you two been dating?” 

Jon shakes his head and picks up a file. “We aren’t dating.” 

“When are you planning on asking?” 

“I’m not.” 

“What!?” 

“It’d be inappropriate.” 

“Sims!” 

“Jasper?” 

Jasper sighs in defeat and slumps heavily in his seat. “Come ON Sims. You two are so cute together. Besides, it’s obvious you like each other.”

“It wouldn’t work out. There’s too much weirdness in the Archives, not to mention with me personally. I don’t want to put him through that.” 

“I have more questions on the weirdness topic, but that’s for later. Right now, talking is starting to hurt, so I’m going to quiet down and work.” 

“Is it the breathing with a broken rib or the talking with the stitches in your lip?” 

“Kindly shove off. Can I say that?”

“You already did.” 

“Can I apologize?” 

“Just work before you hurt yourself any more than you already have.”

Jasper smiles again, this one less intense than the previous one, and slowly moves to sit forward and return to the file on his desk. “Yes, boss.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter has literally been done for months, but I haven't the motivation or energy to post it (thanks depression). 
> 
> Thanks for your patience! We're going to try to get back on track since I got my schedule pretty organized for this semester and I do enjoy this story, writing it, and getting feedback on everything. Hope to see you soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you like it! Leave kudos and comments if you did!


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